"Perhaps it was stupid of me, but I thought—I really quite thought that it was the other one. There is something in the way he looks at her . . . I can't explain! But if you hadn't told me, I should certainly have said that he was the one who was in love with her."
Feathers' big hands gripped the paper with sudden tension.
What cackling, sentimental fools women were! In love! He! Why, he had never looked at a woman in his life.
He flung the paper down, and, rising, stalked out of the lounge.
The two women looked after him in blank dismay.
55 "My dear, do you think he heard?" the younger one whispered.
Mrs. Heriot laughed spitefully.
"I hope he did! It will do him good! He's never even commonly civil to a woman." she said. "But it's really rather droll, you thinking he was the husband! How he will hate it!"